There She Goes
by Kate-Emma
Summary: Complete - Songfic - A fire leaves her stranded, a memory holds him back and a lie threatens to keep them apart forever...


Happy Birthday to me… Where's my adoring crowd?

6 years on = 6 updates. Here's number 4…

**Disclaimer: **'The Bill' belongs to Talkback Thames and iTV. 'Silhouettic' belongs to Birds of Tokyo

**A/N: **I'm venturing the world of Dark Angst for the moment, so fluffy readers beware; this won't be your type of fic.  
As usual, check out the song on Youtube as you read this because it certainly adds to the darkness. And, most of all, enjoy it…

**3/11 A/N**: I think I've held off on the times long enough. Yes, I mixed up the order if events. Here's the times so hopefully you can now work out what's happening…

There She Goes…

_Show me what it means  
We're all dying to know_

**Friday, 1751**

She pressed the oxygen mask tighter, gulping in the fresh air coming through it. Her eyes were locked on the front door, her attention caught by the sooty figure that once again stepped out, this time carrying the blackened and dusty figure of a girl of about 18. He put her down on a stretcher pushed forward by two harassed paramedics. She raised a hand as she slowly regained consciousness, a sign of thanks, and he gave the smallest of smiles, touching her hand as she was wheeled away. He looked back at the nightclub, looking like he was about to go back in, when another paramedic grabbed him and forced oxygen into his hand. He took it but not without protest, at first pushing the mask away but allowing it to be forced upon him by the overall-clad figure who, after issuing the mask, moved on.

She felt an overwhelming desire to go over to him, talk to him, but weakness meant she was struggling to even sit up. Standing and walking look nigh on impossible. So, instead, she just sat and watched him.

_Do I take a hit to the heart?  
Should I let bleeding words weep?_

**Saturday, 0914**

The hot water scolded her skin as she stepped beneath it, but eventually she liked the feeling of it and stop fighting the little voice screaming in her head to 'get out'. She wondered how long it would be before that little voice realized that not every hot thing was out to burn her, trap her and leave her for dead.

She imagined it may be a while.

Her lungs still itched from the smoke inhalation, but the staff at St Hugh's had assured her that this too would pass in time. Eventually she'd be as good as normal, assuming she kept up the rest.

She bit back a silent laugh, wondering how the nurse that had attended to her would react to news of the night before.

It had been walking home that things had started to fall back into place. The pub, the drinks, the long silences shared with the man she still assumed to be her savior. She hadn't had a lot to drink, but it had been enough when mixed with the pain relief she'd been given at the hospital.

She laughed softly to herself, wondering how she'd forgotten about that. She guessed that in the grand scheme of things it had been pushed to the back of her mind, lost behind other pressing issues. Now, as her eyes watered, she was beginning to regret a few things. One was the water was too hot. She turned it down quickly, shocking her system with the sudden cold water attack.

Giving up on the shower she stepped out and grabbed a towel, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. A bruise was forming just below her right eye and she had a few more on her arms and legs. Her foot had been badly beaten under a fallen beam, but it wasn't broken, just bruised as well.

She was a walking bruise.

But, she smiled, at least she was walking.

Thanks to him.

_Silhouette a perfect scene  
Flavour of the month is not that new to me_

**Saturday, 1206**

Still unable to walk without a limp, due to one night of traumatic foot pain, she turned at the sound of her name and smiled as the figure of Leon came towards her. "Hey, what's up?" A frown was etched deep into his expression and her smile dropped. "Leon, what's wrong?"

He just waved for her to follow him, keeping his explanation to a minimum. "Roger and I have been going through the CCTV from inside and outside the nightclub, trying to catch the person responsible for…" he didn't continue, knowing she knew anyway what he was about to say and not keen to make her relive it. Of course, seeing what he was about to show her, this was redundant. "And we got this from one of the cameras."

They'd made it back to the viewing room, Leon offering her a seat as he flicked play on the DVD and the CCTV footage whirled through again. The whole ordeal had already started and she watched in horror as… "Is that me?" She tapped the screen, showing an unconscious figure on the floor.

"Yes, it is."

"I woke up, I remember waking up. My foot was under this… and then… I…" she stopped, catching her breath. "Something fell from the second story and hit me."

Leon sighed. "Not something, someone. A young man's body." He tapped the figure next to her, lying on his side without movement. "I won't play you that bit, it's a little… traumatic." She glanced at him and he motioned back to the screen. "This part here."

She watched as a figure entered, his face covered with his jacket and stumbling through the darkness. She recognised him immediately. "DS Carter?" She looked to Leon for confirmation and he nodded. "You told me he got me out." She beamed, looking at the sergeant the same way she'd looked at him the night before.

Leon sighed. "I was wrong." She narrowed her eyes at him then looked back at the screen. They both watched as he caught sight of her body, easily pushing the debris on and around her clear. Then, he stopped, caught up in something. He leant over and touched her neck, brushing her hair away and feeling a pulse. In the chair Leon watched as she touched her hand to her own neck, engrossed in the footage. Then she gasped as the sergeant took a step back, distancing himself from her, and with one look he stepped over her and disappeared off screen.

"He… I…" her mouth moved wordlessly. "How did I get out?"

"One of the firemen came through in about two minutes time. By that stage however, DS Carter had already carried three people from the building."

"He left me there?" She shook her head, unable to comprehend what she'd seen. "He said he hadn't seen me. Why would he say that?" Tears started up in her eyes and Leon sighed. "He stepped right over me, left me there and…" she took a few deep breaths. "Anything could've happened. The building was on fire and he left me there? I wasn't dead. Why would he do that?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know." Leon flicked off the footage, the screen going black. Still she stared at it, almost as if she were replaying what she'd just seen in her head.

She stood eventually, her breath rasping out between forced words. "Thank you for showing me." Then, holding back a sob, she left the room quickly.

_And you can always be  
Never too far from me…_

**Friday, 2140**

"You're supposed to drink those, not stare at them."

He glanced up from staring into the bottom of his pint to see he was being watched. She smiled and motioned to the barstool beside him and he gave a small nod. She took the seat and ordered a dry white wine. As she sipped it she glanced at him. "I owe you thanks."

He frowned. "What for?"

"Leon said you were the one that got me out." She lowered an eyebrow. "Was he wrong?"

He averted his eyes. "I don't remember, sorry."

She kept smiling. "It's okay. Doesn't really matter anyway."

"Yeah, the point is you're okay."

"Yeah." She beamed, taking another sip of her drink. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Fine." He put his cheek to fist, leaning on the bar, and glanced at her. "Did you hear how it started?"

"Some kids with a lighter and whole lot of spilt alcohol, apparently." She sighed. "Four people didn't make it."

"I know." He returned to staring into his drink.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She pressed, giving him a warm smile.

"Yeah, really, I'm fine." He hung his head, knowing he wasn't really but not keen to show her. Eventually he forced himself into a normal façade. "Next drink's on me."

She nodded. "Okay." They lapsed back into silence again and he returned his attention to the bottom of his pint, frowning into the amber fluid and trying very hard to forget.

_Pick and pull apart  
Leaving me split at the seam_

**Friday, 1712**

Water dotted her forehead, waking her from a horrible dream. A cold, horrible dream. She reached for blankets to pull over herself, drown out the echo of screams and flashing lights. But there were none. She scratched about in the air, looking for that comfort, but hit only more air. Dry, hot air.

She opened her eyes slowly, the orange glow on the other side of her eyelids finally getting the better of her, and the sight before her forced them closed again.

Only an hour before she had been responding to your basic Friday night on the High Street disturbance – drunk teens. Now, god, she'd walked straight into hell.

Fire flickered around her and, as she shifted, trying to get a better view of the carnage, she realised her foot was trapped under a fallen beam. She tugged at it, trying to get free, but without luck.

Well actually, she realised, she was very lucky. The beam wasn't on fire. Yet.

_I'm saying if you want blood  
You'll never get a drop out of me_

**Saturday, 0655**

He awoke with a groan, his head thumping out a steady but annoying rhythm. His throat was dry and it burnt to try and force saliva. He gave up and rolled onto his back, intending to make for the kitchen and milk consumed straight from the carton, when he realized he wasn't alone. Right there, on the other side of the bed, lay another figure. A figure he recognized too well.

Pressing a thumb tip to the point between his eyebrows, he scrunched his face up in silent regrets. He clenched his teeth and ran through the whole mess in his head. Waking her was not an option. Waking would lead to explanations and that would lead to having to admit he'd never once intended to find himself in this awkward conversation with said bed mate.

But eventually the growing threat of dehydration forced him out of bed and brought her into the 'waking' zone. Thus the awkward conversation began.

"What…" she began but paused at the sight of him watching her. "What happened?" He shrugged and she buried her head into the pillow with a groan.

_What is it you don't understand?  
Showing no proof in your plans_

**Friday, 1756**

"How's the oxygen treating you?" She glanced up from the heroism of her colleague to find PC Leon Taylor had joined her, standing out from the crowd as he was one of only a few not covered in soot.

"That's three now."

Leon frowned. "Three what?"

"Three people he's pulled out of the fire now." Admiration shone in her eyes and Leon frowned, following her gaze to the sooty DS seated in the gutter, oxygen masked hanging from his hand as he stared at the ground, caught up in musings Leon didn't know.

"Seven."

She looked up at the number. "What?"

"He's pulled seven, according to that fire-fighter over there." He pointed to a red-suited man who had a fire hose turned on the burning nightclub. "The three you've seen obviously, three more and, he's pretty certain, you."

She gaped. "He got me out?"

Leon nodded. "I think so. No one's really apportioning praise at the moment, just counting the dead and injured."

She frowned at the reality of there being dead. "How many?"

"Four. All were on the second level which is where the fire started. A wayward lighter and a whole lot of spilt alcohol apparently, but then it's an old warehouse so it was always a firetrap." As usual Leon spoke with little emotion, but she knew it wasn't easy to talk about dead teens without a lot of regrets.

"It was supposed to be your usual crackdown on drunk and rowdy 19-year-olds, not this." She sighed and frowned at the still-burning nightclub. A thought occurred to her. "Why was he here?" She motioned to the sergeant in the gutter.

Leon shrugged. "You'll have to ask him." He motioned back towards the other officers now collecting statements. "I better get back to it. You okay?" She nodded with a smile. "Good." He walked off and she watched him go with a sigh before returning to her oxygen.

_Now baby this pain won't end  
And this heartache still rises_

**Friday, 1730**

He'd heard the whole thing across the radio, knowing full well that at least one member of uniform would be there, having heard the earlier reports of a few disturbances at the nightclub. Now, however, it was much worse. The fire brigade had been called. The place was on fire.

He'd just been around the corner, talking to the witness of a burglary when the call came. He left the witness and came to the site, intending to gather witness statements only, when he realised he was alone in watching the blaze. The fire brigade and ambulances hadn't arrived yet.

And injured teens were stumbling from the club.

A different sense took over, part of him that seemed to come programmed rather than thought out. He had to get in there and help out. So, pulling his jacket up over his head, he pushed through the door and into the fiery club.

That was when he'd seen her, laying just inside the entrance almost like that was as far as she'd gotten before all hell broke loose. He came to her, intending to help. He got as far as releasing her and checking her pulse before something took over and he stepped back, memories running through his head.

He'd been 8 when his family home had caught on fire. His father had been at work and his mother at the shops just down the road. It had been him and his little sister who was 5, home alone on a school break. His mother would be home in five minutes. But they didn't have five minutes.

He'd been playing with his father's matches, always intrigued by things he'd been denied for so long at that age. Matches had been one of them. Now, having climbed onto a chair to get them out of the cupboard, he sat flicking them as he sat at the kitchen bench. He loved the way they sparked then went out as they hit the ceramic bench top. As he flicked the fourth one a wail came from upstairs. His sister. She'd fallen over something and hurt herself. His hero tactics kicking in even at a young age, he rushed off.

The fire-fighters would later reveal that it was that last stray match flicked a little too hard that had started the house fire. The match had hit a small pile of papers and caught alight.

That had been the afternoon he'd barely escaped the house with his life and his sister would suffer many years of asthma caused by smoke on the lungs. He would never be allowed to forget what he'd done that day.

And now, here he was again, looking down at the prone figure of someone he cared about and unable to move. As his eyes flicked away from her, drawn by a cry from nearby, his feet began to shift again and his breath returned.

Then he stepped over her and went to save someone else.

_Always on the same page?  
I'm not sure we are…_

**Saturday, 0726**

She wasn't keen to remove herself from the warm bed and the pillows that smelt like him, but eventually she had to, and she dressed, meeting him in the kitchen. He was standing at the counter, popping paracetamol and looking like death warmed up. She frowned at him. "What happened?"

He held up one hand, rubbing the other over his face, fighting back a very tired and hung-over expression. "Can we not do the 'day after the night before' talk?"

She shrugged. "Fine with me." They were silent for a moment, awkward silence, before she noticed her bag on the counter nearby. She grabbed it and glanced at the two missed calls from her flatmate. "I better go before Lara reports me missing."

He nodded back, not moving from the kitchen counter he was now leaning against in a bid to stay standing. "Okay."

She bit her lip and glanced between him and the door. Realising this wasn't going to end the way she was silently hoping it would, she took her leave. "See you at work." He didn't move from the kitchen as she let herself out.

_There goes my baby  
She's gotta know, she's gotta know_

**Saturday, 1341**

He spotted her across the canteen the next afternoon, talking animatedly to Leon Taylor and Ben Gayle. He frowned, pausing in the doorway to watch her for a second, and then she caught his eye. It seemed she'd known she was being watched.

The men sitting with her followed her eye, Ben giving him a blank look and Leon trying very hard to smother a frown. Ben turned back and said something to her, the comment provoking her into action as she stood and joined him in the doorway. But her only sentence to him was short, harsh and straight to the point. "Leave me alone."

"You can't talk to a senior officer like that." He growled as she made to push past him.

She stopped and looked back at him. "Fine." She met his eye with a cold glare. "Leave me alone… sarge." She walked away again.

"Millie!" He called after her, trying to reason, but she didn't stop.

_That when the red light's on  
There's no one at home, yeah…_


End file.
